


Can I Have This Dance

by fiveainley_ohmy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School Musical Fusion, Episode: s03e02 The Sign of Three, Episode: s03e03 His Last Vow, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Some John/Mary but Johnlock is endgame, Songfic, dance!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 04:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5897674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As best man, it's Sherlock's job to teach John to dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can I Have This Dance

**Author's Note:**

> I am absolute garbage. I don't know why, but this song makes me think of Sherlock and John every time. I finally just had to get this fic out of my system. If I had the resources, I'd make a music video instead. Don't rot your teeth on all this sugary fluff. (And yes, Sherlock quotes Madame de Pompadour from the Doctor Who episode "The Girl In The Fireplace".)
> 
> Regular Italic: song lyrics sung by one  
> Italic AND Underlined: duet

"Alright, Sherlock, I'm here," said John, coming inside the living room of 221B and hanging his coat on the old, familiar hat rack by the door. "What's the emergency?"

Sherlock was standing by his writing desk, his laptop sitting on it, open to some (at least, what looked to John to be) audio editing software.

"I can't be sure it's right," Sherlock muttered, his back to his friend, hunched over his computer.

"What's right?" John said, crossing to him, touching his back concernedly.

Sherlock suddenly looked up, as if he'd just realized John was there. He hesitated, then said, "John, I want to make your wedding perfect."

"Yeah, I got that," John laughed. "You were up with poor Mary all night folding napkins into origami swans."

"That's ridiculous. Origami swans are tacky and cliche. They were models of the Sydney Opera House."

"Sherlock. I appreciate all the effort you've put into me and Mary's special day," said John kindly. "Really, I think you're the best best man in history at this point. But what's wrong?"

"I..." Sherlock faltered. "Damn. I so wanted it to be a surprise."

"What?" John asked.

After a moment's deliberation, Sherlock finally answered. "I've composed a song for you and Mary. For your first dance."

John's mouth fell open in surprise.

"I know, it was presumptuous of me," Sherlock babbled. "You probably already had a song in mind, but Mary said you'd appreciate the gesture-" Sherlock was caught off as his best friend suddenly threw his arms around him in a tight hug.

"Sherlock...I'm touched," said John, his voice breaking slightly. "You...you're wonderful, you know that?"

"I...it was nothing worthy of mention," Sherlock stammered, taken off guard by his best mate's sudden close proximity.

"Bollocks," said John. "It was a beautiful thing to do. Sherlock, no one's ever done something like that for me in my life."

The tips of Sherlock's ears were smoldering red under his unruly brunette curls. "I...anyway." He inched slightly away from the other man so there was a less _intimate_ distance between them and commanded his heart to stop beating so hard. "I've been visualizing the dance in my mind palace, but it's no use. I need to see it physically."

"Okay," said John. "No problem. I'll text Mary, she'll come over-"

"No." It came out too fast. "No," said Sherlock again, calmer. "I want her wedding day to be the first time she hears it."

"Well then, what? Do you want me to dance with Mrs. Hudson?"

"Actually..." Sherlock bit his lip. "I know it will feel a bit foreign to you, but would you mind terribly allowing me to stand in for your affianced?"

It took John a minute. Then he blinked. "You...want to dance with me?"

"It's only so I can have a practical example of the execution," Sherlock said quickly. "If it's uncomfortable for you-"

"No," said John nonchalantly. "It's not that. I-" Now John seemed to be the one that was embarrassed.

Sherlock shook his head. "What? What is it?"

John hemmed and hawed. "I can't."

"Can't dance with me?" Sherlock inferred.

"No, just...can't."

Sherlock finally understood. "John. You can't seriously expect me to believe you don't know how to dance."

"Well..." John ruffled his hair awkwardly. "Not very _well_. I've never danced with a woman without mashing her toes with my feet."

"Well, that ends today," said Sherlock, pressing a button on the keyboard on his laptop. The sound of Sherlock's violin seeped out of the speakers, soft and tender. Sherlock held out his right hand. "Come on, John."

"Sherlock, I don't need-"

"John," said Sherlock. "There comes a time when every lonely little boy must learn how to dance."

"I'm not a little boy," grumbled John. "And who said I was lonely?"

"John," said Sherlock, one more time.

John stood there, lips pursed. Then, his shoulders dropped, and he exhaled in defeat. "Fine," he muttered, blushing.

"Just imagine I'm Mary," Sherlock suggested. Then he took a deep breath. " _Take my hand. Take a_ _breath._ " John put his left hand in Sherlock's right and breathed deep. " _Pull me close, and take one_ _step._ " Sherlock guided John's other hand to his waist. He caught John's chin and coaxed his face upward when his eyes dropped down to their shoes. " _Keep your eyes locked on mine, and let the music be your guide..."_  
  
" _Won't you promise me..._ " John murmured under his breath, trying very hard to picture Mary's face. 

(" _Now won't you promise me, that you'll never forget..._ ")

" _We'll keep dancing..._ " John was finding it hard to remember what his incipient wife looked like at the moment, as Sherlock gently coaxed him along to move with the music. " _...wherever we go_ _next_. "

And suddenly, their bodies were moving in perfect harmony. John was suddenly relaxed and free, the sweet melody and his best friend helping his movements flow like water. No, easier than that. Like water vapor. " _It's like catching lightning, the chances of finding someone like you._ " They were sashaying around the living room, tiptoeing around Sherlock's strewn clutter like masters of space. John couldn't help but laugh as tall, lanky Sherlock had to bend his long limbs to duck under John's arms as he twirled him around. He even dared to pick up the lightweight madman by his paper thin sides and spin around with him several times. " _It's one in a million, the chances of feeling the way we do. And with every step together, we just keep on getting better_. _So can I have this dance?_ "

" _Can I have this dance?_ " echoed Sherlock.

" _Can I have this dance..._ " Their dancing had slowed, and their chests, their faces, were very, very close...

Then the spell was broken. John blinked several times and pulled away.

Sherlock too looked flustered. "Erm...very good. You're a fast learner," he said, quickly turning away and shutting off the music.

"Thank you," John mumbled. Then, he added, "For the lesson, I mean. And the song. It's...it's absolutely beautiful, Sherlock."

Sherlock looked at his hands. "I'm sure Mary will enjoy it."

Mary.

"Yes. She will," said John.

There were a few more terse seconds, then John said, "I need to go-"

"-of course-"

"-again, thank you-"

"-don't mention it."

"Yes. Well." John stood by the door, his coat in his hand. "Bye then."

"Goodbye, John."

John quickly turned and exited, closing the door behind him. He clambered down the stairs, made it out onto the street, and hailed a taxi. He didn't dare look back, because he knew Sherlock would be watching from the window. He always did.

It wasn't until John was inside the cab and had ridden a good way down Baker Street that he allowed himself to press his hand to calm his pounding heart.

* * *

It had been a good service. And Sherlock's best man's speech had brought laughter, tears, and, surprisingly, the conviction of a wanted murderer.

John had Mary in his arms, preparing for his dance with his new wife. The beautiful music came from the stage, where Sherlock was playing his violin. The whole room was silent. All eyes were trained on the newlyweds, all ears on the music.

" _Take my hand, I'll take the lead_ ," said John to Mary, pulling her close and guiding her around the dance floor. " _And every turn will be safe with me. Don't be afraid, afraid to fall. You know I'll catch you through it all_."

It was then that John's eyes flickered to Sherlock on the stage.

Sherlock was staring back at him.

" _And you can't keep us apart..._ "

He seemed to be responding to him. " _Even a thousand miles, can't keep us apart. 'Cause my heart is wherever you are._"  
  
It was strange. Mary was exactly the perfect size to dance with John. And yet...she just didn't feel quite right in his arms.

" _It's like catching lightning the chances of finding someone like you. It's one in a million, the chances of feeling the way we do. And with every step together, we just keep on getting better. So can I have this dance?_ "

" _Can I have this dance?_ "

" _Can I have this dance..._ "

The song ended, and the wedding goers applauded Sherlock, glassy eyed all over again. "Sherlock, that was lovely," Mary  praised as their best man approached.

"Thank you, Mrs. Watson. It was the least I could do. After all, John saved me. And you saved him." Sherlock looked apologetically at John.

John smiled back, melancholy, and pulled Sherlock into another hug. The deejay began another song, one more festive and inviting to the other partygoers, who gathered on the dance floor around them and danced. Mary tugged on John's arm and led him away to join the merriment. As John looked back over his shoulder, Sherlock stood there, watching, until the crowd flooded their eye line and he disappeared in the din.

"Dear, what's wrong?" Mary asked him.

"Oh...nothing, darling. Everything is perfect." John kissed her swiftly and joined in the dance. But inside, he was troubled. _Christ. I've made a terrible mistake..._

* * *

" _Oh, no mountain's too high and no ocean's too wide_ ," John thought to himself as Sherlock's plane took off from the runway, taking him away from him. " _'Cause together or not, our dance won't stop_..."

" _Let it rain, let it pour_ ," Sherlock's coked up mind seemed to be screaming at him as he flew further from the thing most important to him in all this world. " _What we have is worth fighting for. You know I believe that we were meant to be..._ "

* * *

_Many years later..._

" _It's like catching lightning the chances of finding someone like you_ ," Sherlock and John avowed, standing before each other at the altar. " _It's one in a million, the chances of feeling the way we do. And with every step together, we just keep on getting better_."

" _So can I have this dance?_ " asked Sherlock.

" _Can I have this dance?_ " John replied.

" _Can I have this dance?_ " The two groomsmen finished and grinned, leaning in for their first kiss as husband and husband. Their friends, sitting in the pews, burst into applause. Mike Crawford called raucously, "Knew you two could do it!" Mrs. Hudson, in the front row, cried into her handkerchief. Mycroft merely rolled his eyes, but was concealing a smile.

_Can I have this dance...can I have this dance?_


End file.
